Regrets

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Regrets Page 2

by Caragh Bell


  She pushed back her duvet and swung her legs out of her bed. Her room hadn’t changed. The walls were still purple and her Coldplay poster still hung over by the wardrobe. The shelves were dusty; there was no denying that the place needed a huge clean.

  Not on my list of priorities, she thought, pulling on her robe.

  Molly had tried to move in after she left, but Helen had refused. It was and would remain Lydia’s room, a symbol of permanence that would be there if she needed it.

  Lydia smiled. Her darling mum.

  For most of the year it lay idle, like most of the rooms in the house. Seán and Helen’s children had all flown the nest, in one way or another. Sarah was a modern-language teacher in a school in the city. Ollie worked for Apple as a field service engineer. Molly was studying nursing at university.

  At Christmas, the house filled up again. Helen loved this; she missed having a family to cook for and look after. This year they had the added bonus of Baby Seán.

  Lydia hugged herself, contented to be home.

  Molly was nursing a glass of water at the kitchen table when Lydia arrived downstairs.

  ‘Mol!’ she exclaimed, rushing over to give her a hug. ‘Sorry I missed you last night, but I was exhausted.’

  Molly smiled wanly. ‘Good to see you, Lyd. Just keep your voice down – I’m kinda dying here.’

  Lydia smiled. It was hard to be around the new grown-up Molly. The Molly who could go to pubs and come home drunk without their father having a coronary. Her sister’s honey-blonde hair was backcombed and her eyes were smudged with black kohl.

  ‘Was it fun last night? Where did you go?’

  ‘Everywhere. We did the Twelve Pubs of Christmas.’ She groaned loudly. ‘Jesus, Lyd, get me some paracetamol, will you?’

  Lydia giggled. She knew that feeling. The nausea, the headache and the overwhelming desire to sleep. She had gone to bed straight after her hot port last night. It felt great to be healthy.

  ‘Here,’ she said soothingly, placing two tablets on the table next to a glass of water. ‘Eat something with them or you’ll bring them back up again.’

  ‘Cheers!’ Molly sniffed miserably. ‘I’m never drinking –’

  ‘Again,’ finished Lydia, laughing. ‘Famous last words.’

  She flicked on the Nespresso machine. ‘What time are Sarah and Andy coming over?’

  Molly shrugged. ‘Who knows? Baby Seán naps and eats at certain times so they organise their lives around that. She’s all over that Gina Ford book. I mean, all over it.’

  Lydia giggled. That was Sarah Kelly to a tee.

  Colin burst into the kitchen, closely followed by his parents. His cheeks were rosy from the cold air outside.

  Hi!’ Lydia greeted them all warmly. ‘Happy Christmas!’

  ‘Lydia.’ Oscar nodded briefly before walking off into the sitting room.

  Lydia turned to Diana. ‘Hi, Auntie Di. Long time no see.’

  ‘Hi, darling,’ she replied, kissing her cheek lightly. ‘How’s the Parisian experience going?’ She smelled of Chanel.

  ‘Oh, great. Just wonderful.’ Lydia kept smiling. ‘I’m really busy.’

  Diana put her head to one side. ‘But Helen said that you were still working in some bistro …’

  ‘Like I said, I’m really busy.’ Lydia’s tone was final. ‘Would you like a coffee?’

  Diana shook her head wordlessly.

  ‘Mum, lay off Lyd, okay?’ Colin spread some Nutella on his toast. ‘She’s finding herself.’

  Lydia suppressed a smile. ‘I’ll just go and get dressed.’

  Samantha called over after dinner. Her brown hair was longer now, and fell in waves around her face. Lydia hugged her best friend warmly.

  ‘You look amazing!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’ve never seen you with long hair before.’

  Samantha smiled and did a pirouette. ‘I’ve decided to grow my hair like Kate Middleton. You know, with the wavy locks and stuff.’

  ‘You look amazing,’ affirmed Lydia, observing her stylish clothes and golden bangles. ‘Like a model.’

  ‘Ah, will you stop! How’s life with you? How’s Fabian?’ Samantha winked. ‘He looked hot on Facebook.’

  ‘Well, things sort of fizzled out, to be honest.’ Lydia felt uncomfortable. ‘He wanted to introduce me to his parents and …’

  ‘When did you become such a commitment-phobe?’ demanded Samantha, her hands on her hips. ‘Honestly, since Dominic you have been …’

  ‘Hey, don’t mention the D word, okay?’ Lydia glared at her friend. ‘I’m just enjoying my freedom. Fabian was gorgeous and hot and cool but he wasn’t for me.’

  Samantha frowned. ‘Are you happy over there? Really?’

  Lydia paused for a second. ‘Yes. I think so. I mean, I have been thinking of moving back …’

  ‘Oh, do!’ Samantha jumped up and down. ‘I miss you so much.’

  ‘Yeah, I might. I haven’t told Mum and Dad though, so keep quiet.’

  Molly burst into the room. ‘Lyd! Come on. Colin has the karaoke machine set up and ready to go.’

  Samantha put her head in her hands. ‘Looks like it’s my cue to go.’

  ‘No!’ Lydia looked at her in panic. ‘At least stay for a glass of wine. We must plan New Year’s Eve. I leave a couple of days later so we must make it count.’

  ‘Well, Craig is coming down and my parents are having their usual party so …’

  ‘Can I come?’

  ‘Need you ask?’

  They ambled into the sitting room to find Colin blowing on the tip of the microphone.

  ‘Testing – one – two!’

  Oscar and Diana were playing chess and Ollie was eating his second sandwich since dinner.

  ‘You have to sing, girls,’ he said between mouthfuls. ‘What was it last year? “I Got You Babe”?’

  Lydia made a face.

  Colin turned on the karaoke machine and turned up the volume.

  ‘We’re ready to roll!’ he announced, getting in position.

  The intro to ‘Baby One More Time’filled the room.

  Oscar looked up from the game for a second, raised his eyes to heaven and then resumed his habitual frown of concentration. Without a word, he picked up his bishop and took out Diana’s queen.

  ‘Oh, Oscar!’ she gasped. ‘I didn’t see that coming.’

  He took a swig of whiskey and smiled smugly.

  ‘… one more time!’ Colin was strutting around the sitting room, giving his best Britney impression.

  Samantha caught Lydia’s eye and they started to laugh.

  ‘Takes me back to the Doyle’s days,’ whispered Samantha, smiling. ‘Remember what we suffered?’

  Suddenly the sitting-room door burst open and a red-faced Sarah ran in.

  ‘What the hell is going on?’ she yelled, simultaneously grabbing the microphone and switching off the machine.

  Colin opened his mouth and shut it again.

  ‘Do you not realise the day I’ve had? I have been breastfeeding non-stop, then he finally goes to sleep, at least an hour outside his scheduled time, and I’m creeping out of the fucking room so I can have a cup of undisturbed herbal tea …’ She paused to take a breath. ‘Then I hear Britney bloody Spears down here, singing at the top of his voice!’

  ‘Sarah, love, calm down.’ Helen rubbed her arm. ‘We’ll stop the karaoke.’

  ‘Look at me!’ she wailed. ‘I haven’t slept in two weeks. Do you realise how hard it is to train a newborn? And Andy? He’s useless, useless! He could sleep through a tornado.I can’t take it, I can’t take it!’

  ‘Sarah, I can sit with him if you like?’ offered Lydia, getting to her feet. ‘Come on, Sam. We’ll sing him to sleep.’

  ‘Ah lads, we’ll miss your annual duet,’ complained Ollie, in mock disappointment.

  ‘It’ll be “Twinkle Twinkle”,Olls. I think you’ll be okay.’ Lydia winked at her brother and pulled Samantha out of the room.

  ‘Did you see how frazz
led she looked?’ said Samantha in an undertone, as they crept up the stairs. ‘If that’s what babies do to you, then I’ll have to think again.’

  ‘Oh? You were thinking, huh?’ Lydia gave her a shrewd look. ‘Anything I should know?’

  ‘Well, of course we’ve discussed it – you know, the future and stuff.’ Samantha looked uncomfortable.

  ‘Really? Crikey!’

  They pushed open the door of Sarah’s room. Baby Seán was wide awake and gurgling in his cot. Andy was sound asleep, his head under the pillow.

  ‘Blocking it out, I suppose,’ observed Lydia, pointing to the lump under the duvet. ‘Men are hilarious. They can just switch off.’

  ‘I hope your dad gives Sarah a brandy or something. She needs to relax.’

  Lydia shook her head fervently. ‘Not a hope. The wildest thing she would drink is an inch of wine. She’s all about health and milk production.’

  They peered into the cot. Baby Seán flapped his arms and wiggled around.

  ‘Oooh, look at him!’ Samantha’s face softened. ‘He’s a real little buster.’

  ‘Yeah, he’s definitely cuter than the last time I saw him.’ Lydia leaned into the cot and stroked his soft cheek. ‘I’d say we’ll have to take him into my room for a while. I don’t think I can sing lullabies in front of Andy.’

  Andy snored loudly in response.

  ‘He’s out for the count, Lyd. I think we’ll be okay.’

  Oscar and Diana left the next morning.

  ‘Off skiing in Méribel,’ said Colin, flicking the TV channels. ‘I love the way that I’m never invited.’

  ‘Stay here and be my date to Sam’s party.’

  ‘Can’t. Val is coming down. I cleared it with Auntie Hel.’

  ‘Great!’

  ‘It will be. I’m expecting my proposal, you know.’

  ‘Proposal?’ Lydia frowned. ‘What proposal?’

  ‘Of marriage, you donkey! Well, a civil partnership thing, but who cares? I get to wear amazing clothes and everyone will be staring at me all day long. So same difference.’ He closed his eyes. ‘My dream come true.’

  ‘Aren’t they talking about having a referendum sometime soon?’

  ‘I can’t wait around for that! Are you mad? Every day I get a new wrinkle. Look!’ He pointed to his eyes. ‘It’s now or never, Lyd.’

  ‘But do you really think a proposal is on the cards?’

  ‘Come on, girl! I’m a serious catch!’

  ‘With a big ego.’

  ‘Excuse me!’

  ‘Okay, okay, you are.’ Lydia hugged herself. ‘And I can imagine it now – you all decked out in a white suit with diamond cufflinks, a string quartet playing Pachelbel’s Canon, me in a beautiful gown scattering petals as you glide up the aisle …’

  ‘Well, there’s a snag right there. No church, no aisle. Registry office. Ugh!’ He grimaced. ‘But we can do our own ceremony afterwards – a lot of couples have these Humanist celebrants now – and hold it in a fancy hotel – or outdoors in a rose garden –’

  ‘With the rain bucketing down …’

  ‘Lydia!’

  Lydia grinned. ‘Well, first thing first – a fiancé is a minimum requirement. Val is willing, is he?’

  ‘Oh, he’s keeping his cards close to his chest of course. But there have been hints.’

  ‘And you think New Year will be the moment?’

  ‘I do, I do!’ He closed his eyes and raised his fists dramatically.

  Molly arrived into the room at that moment.

  ‘Morning, peeps!’ She grabbed the remote off Colin. ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?’ she asked, as Johnny Depp’s face filled the screen. ‘There’s nothing else on.’

  ‘I’m going for a walk with the baby,’ said Lydia, getting to her feet. ‘Sarah and Andy are having a power struggle about who does the lion’s share, blah, blah …’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ said Colin, jumping to his feet. ‘I could do with some fresh air. And we need to talk.’

  Oh dear, thought Lydia, I hope Val won’t burst his bubble.

  Chapter 3

  The week flew by.

  Lydia visited her grandparents, met up with old friends, ate lots of food and relaxed with her family. It felt good to be immersed in family life, fighting over who sat on the armchair, arguing over what to watch on TV. She loved waking up in the morning and ambling downstairs to find either Ollie or Colin in the kitchen. The company was comforting. She really was quite isolated in Paris. Sure, she had her friends but she was mostly alone.

  She didn’t really mind the solitude – who was truly alone with Wi-Fi? Still, her week in the bosom of her family had recharged her batteries and gave her strength. The New Year promised fresh opportunities and uncharted experiences. She felt positive about her life; she now realised that change was needed. She couldn’t be a waitress forever, flitting from one meaningless relationship to the next.

  She had submitted a couple of articles to the Sunday Independent, but to no avail. Her dream of being a writer seemed unreachable. Her mother and father were right. It was an unstable, unreliable job.

  She had made a royal mess of things.

  Colin offered to put her up if she moved back. When he had decided to go to university in Cork, Oscar and Diana had purchased a small apartment for their son close to college. It was filled with expensive furniture and was kept in pristine condition. He had a luxurious spare room that overlooked the river.

  ‘It’s yours, Lyd,’ he declared. ‘Just say the word! Val doesn’t mind at all if we have a roomie. Plus, the bed has Egyptian cotton sheets and I put my old flat-screen TV in there.’

  She was really contemplating his offer. She missed Cork and her old life. Even though deep down she knew it would never be the same. Gone were the carefree days where she and Colin would go down to Brown Thomas shopping. Or when they would go to the cinema at lunchtime. He was a career man now with his swanky job. Everyone had a purpose; everyone had direction.

  The time had come to sort her life out.

  ‘Are you ready, Lyd?’ Val called up the stairs. ‘Colin is having a canary here!’

  ‘Lyd! Move it! You know I hate being late!’ Colin rang the doorbell to add emphasis to his impatience.

  ‘Coming, coming!’ Lydia fastened her earring and observed her reflection in the mirror.

  Her hair fell in a sheet down her back. She had chosen a green minidress, coupled with black tights and stiletto boots. Bracelets jangled on her wrists and her eyes were painted with the same shade of green as her dress. A smear of gloss on her lips and she was ready. Satisfied, she put on her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck.

  ‘Finally,’ said Colin sarcastically when she emerged out of the front door. ‘I just can’t understand lateness. I mean, organise yourself. It isn’t rocket science.’

  Lydia stuck her tongue out at his back and Val laughed.

  ‘He’s constantly giving me grief too,’ he said.

  They walked briskly. The snow had abated but had left a residue of slush that was now frozen and dangerous.

  ‘Hold my arm, Val,’ ordered Colin, in a panic. ‘I cannot fall in this suit.’

  His white suit glowed in the street lights.

  ‘You look like Liberace,’ reflected Lydia, watching her cousin prance along the street.

  Colin tossed his curls indignantly. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said. ‘White is a classy colour and it really suits my skin tone. And …’ he stared at Lydia and widened his eyes meaningfully, ‘it’s appropriate to the occasion.’

  Lydia glanced at Val and thought he smirked fleetingly.

  ‘Now, here we are. Chez Samantha!’ said Colin.

  They stopped outside a large two-storey detached house. A festive wreath hung on the oak front door and fairy lights decorated the bush near the gate.

  Val rang the doorbell. They could hear music emanating out from the bay window at the front of the house.

  ‘Hi, e
veryone!’ Samantha opened the door. ‘Happy New Year!’

  ‘Hi, Sam! Lovely dress.’ Colin kissed her on the cheek and thrust a bottle of champagne into her hands.

  ‘Hi, Sam. Thanks for having us,’ said Val, giving her a hug.

  Lydia walked in last and stopped short when she saw her friend. Samantha was wearing a black off-the-shoulder cocktail dress, with black strappy sandals and long diamanté earrings. Her newly long hair was pinned up at the side of her head, so that it fell becomingly onto her right shoulder. Her dark-brown eyes were circled with kohl and her cheekbones accentuated by a hint of blusher. She was positively glowing.

  ‘You look so pretty, Sam. New dress?’ she asked, taking off her coat.

  ‘Yeah, Craig gave it to me for Christmas.’ She smiled radiantly.

  ‘Craig?’ she repeated incredulously. ‘How did he pick something so chic?’ She unwrapped her scarf.

 

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